Polyergus Formicidians and Secret Agents
by Charlett
Summary: It was just supposed to be another meteor shower, but the moment they touched down to Earth, the EBA found themselves getting bugged by some rather rude new planet guests.
1. Introducing BA 5

What better way to celebrate the fact that I'm writing for National Novel Writing Month than by uploading the novel I worked on back in '07?

Exactly.

I don't even know why I wrote this. National Novel Writing Month (AKA NaNoWriMo or just NaNo) is 50,000 words in 30 days. Why in the world would anyone, ANYONE, write 50,000 consecutive words about the Elite Beat Agents in one month?

An idiot, that's who.

Regardless, I really liked some of this, despite the crap I went through making it. I guess I can let everyone see what I did here, at least the beginning, for now. Invite others to read this too; I wrote it specifically for people who don't know EBA that much. At least, the beginning is enough for anyone. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, I guess.

READ ON!

---

Hardly anyone noticed the small music shop near the corner of 34th and Vine. Indeed, the strange shop next to it seemed to always get more attention. That didn't seem to be much of a problem for the shop though. As long as it got the money to sustain itself, its owner was happy.

However, soon the small music shop did something quite extraordinary. It hired the help of a rather extraordinary boy. The young, colored teenager was unlike most teenagers in the fact that he loved music. He loved music of every type, from classical to country to rap (the young man actually wanted to become a rapper when he grew older). When listening to music, he could pick out which instruments were being used, how many, and whether or not a few were not tuned properly. It had always been a silly knack for the young man, and he hardly paid it any mind.

When he was hired as the caretaker of the small music shop near the corner of 34th and Vine, however, he found that he had another strange knack. Philip J. Jackson would smile favorably at any customer that entered the store and ask the same question. "What do you describe yourself as?"

At first, the customers were put off by such a strange, personal question, but a few humored Philip. They told him what they were like. Some were bubbly, some were sad, and even some felt angry at the world and wanted to see what it was like to suddenly kick someone in the rear and see the look on his face. Philip would then press his lips together, think very hard, and sail off to grab a music CD. He would then hand it to the person and say, "This is the CD for you. From the way you described yourself, you will love this music more than any other."

It was scary because every single time, Philip was right. Those who took the young man's advice found that they did love the songs within the CD; every last one was perfect bliss to the people who listened to the recommended songs. Suddenly, the small music shop got a lot of traffic. People of all sorts came barreling into the shop, just to see if they could disprove the claim that Philip could pick their music. Every single time, he would ask the same question, and if everyone replied truthfully, then he would find the right music.

Philip became a commodity in the town. Classmates of his that never remembered his name suddenly approached him on the way to school, asking if he was the Philip J Jackson that everyone was talking about. Philip would puff himself up pridefully and nod happily. "Yes! That's me alright!"

However popular Philip was in the music industry, however, he never really found himself fitting in with the students in his high school. The students would be excited to see the man who was a musical wizard, but other than that, they were highly uninterested in his escapades in real life. Seeing him as a normal kid who really couldn't do much else but sing and dance was incredibly dull and boring. Philip's best friend, Kyle, tried to sum up the feeling most of the others in the school felt. "It's like finding out Superman likes LARPing on weekends. Would you REALLY want to hang out with a LARP fanatic, no matter how fast he could fly around the world?" Philip wasn't sure that really made sense or summed anything up, but he took it with a grain of salt.

Philip was a musical master, but he didn't seem to be very special in other ways. He lived with his grandmother and sister, waiting for his father to return from the war, and his life revolved around his school, his homework, and his job at the small music store. There was just one thing he wished he could add to his expert juggling act…

---

One day, when Philip was cleaning the shop by sweeping the floor, a woman entered the door, calling out to anyone working there. "Hey, Phil! Where are you?" Philip winced at the nickname. He had decided at a very young age that the nickname "Phil" was the nickname of the devil and he hated it with a fiery passion. However, he allowed the woman who recently entered the shop to call him anything. The young worker appeared from an aisle of sheet music and waved the woman down.

"Hello, Asha!" he called to his classmate since the 6th grade, "How've you been?"

"Well enough," Asha said. She turned away to look at an antique recorder that Philip's boss had put on display. When she turned, Philip cocked his head to the side. He wanted a better view of her nice rear. It was shaped so well and fit so nicely in her tight shorts. The moment she looked up, however, Philip returned to sweeping. The man had always thought Asha to be the most beautiful woman on the planet, but she never seemed to respond to his attempts at wooing her. Her beautiful brown eyes would dance every single time he asked her out.

---

"_Please, Asha!" he had cried when they were freshmen in high school, "Just one date! How's it gunna kill ya?"_

"_Slowly and painfully," Asha replied, "You'll never understand, Phil, I'm a delicate woman. I need someone other than a pushover to go out with. Why, I bet if I went on a date with you, muggers would target us JUST because you look like an easy target!"_

"_That's not true," Philip would reply with a smile, "They'd assume we don't have anything on us 'cause we're black."_

_Philip got a black eye that day._

---

"So… Asha… whatcha here for…?" Philip asked after he shook that horrid memory from his mind. Asha smiled at him, and her eyes danced again. She always did that when she was ready to play with yet another suitor that she'd turn down so hard the man would explode in a flaming wreck. "I mean, you know… Whatcha doin' in a music store unless you're buying music?"

"I wanted to know if you could stop staring at my rack long enough to speak to me for a while," Asha said. Philip looked up from her cleavage and stared at her manipulative dancing eyes. They were a trap! A trap! "Why don't I file a suit for sexual harassment?"

"If you don't like your treatment, you can leave," Philip said, "Although you can't really leave, can you? You really like the music I pick out for you."

Asha raised one of her eyebrows. So, Philip was going to play it the hard way, huh…? She smiled and walked to the counter that the worker was failing to stand behind, and leaned across it for a moment. "I suppose you're right, Phil. So could you pick something up for little ol' me?"

"Let's see… did any new music come in since you last visited?" Philip asked, walking behind the counter and accessing the lone computer behind it, "When was that, again?"

"Last month," Asha said, leaning further across the counter. Philip continued to type away at the computer, refusing to stare too heavily at her. She was so beautiful, he could stare at her for hours on end, but he had a job to do! If he worked hard, maybe she'd let him take her out for coffee, at least! There was a Starbucks down the way…

Philip struggled with the PC. How come they always had to be so difficult? If only everything electronic could just be accessed like shooting games. Press the Alt (Or "B") button, and have any machine ever immediately come to life and do the work for you. "Oh, here we are. We do have a few new things in stock," Philip said without missing a beat. He whirled around and rushed off. "I think I know just the one for you, too!"

"Think…?" Asha asked with a sly smile, "I didn't think you actually thought, Phil. I thought you just went by your instinct through life. Sentience isn't fashionable anymore, you know."

"Oh, you know, I always think if I have to. I mean, really," Philip replied without even realizing that the woman was being sarcastic. She decided not to say anything and instead just sighed lightly. Eventually, he returned with CD in hand. "Here it is."

"Great, how much?" Asha asked, reaching out to take it.

Philip pulled it back. "One coffee at Starbucks," he demanded, "Alright?"

Asha glared at the extortionist. "You do realize you get paid by commission, right?"

Philip stared back, and placed his fingers on his chin in thought. "Damn, you're right…" he muttered, "Here, just take it. It's on me if you do want to get a coffee?"

"Nice try, lover boy, but I have plenty of money right here," Asha said, fishing around her back pocket. Philip moved his head just slightly so he could watch her touching her rear. She was so cute when she did that…! She pulled open the wallet and handed him a few bills. "Keep the change. Looks like you'll need it come tonight."

"Tonight?" Philip asked, blinking as he counted off the money to see how much went into his personal coffers, "Don't worry, I don't have to help Gramma pay rent until a week from now."

"Good god," Asha said as she took the CD and left, "You really DO need to get laid…" Philip watched as she walked out of the shop, and once the bell rang to signal that someone had entered or left, a light bulb appeared over his head.

"Oh, that's what she…" He frowned darkly. "Ohhhhh, THAT'S what she meant…"

Philip sighed as the woman of his dreams walked out of the shop with nary a hitch. It just wasn't fair. Why wasn't he appealing? Was it his shaved head? He'd grow it out if she just asked… Perhaps it was the way he dressed. Maybe if he had a grunge look she'd be attracted to him. He wasn't sure how that would work, but everyone was mysterious in their own way.

"Hey! Jackson!" Philip nearly jumped when he heard his boss from the storage room. "What did I tell you about daydreaming on the job? There's a pile of dirt on aisle 3! Get over there now!"

Just how did that guy know everything that went on out front when he was in the storage room? And he thought HE had weird psychic powers. "Y…yes Sir!" Philip called back. He trotted around the counter, grabbed the broom, and rushed down to continue his sweeping.

Suddenly, Philip's watch rang loudly. The young man winced when he realized what that meant, and he shouldered the broom so he could inspect the fancy watch that was wrapped snugly around his wrist. One would wonder how he got such a high tech watch from his low paying part time job, but hardly anyone noticed it unless it was ringing. That hardly ever happened, so Philip was usually in the clear.

However, now that it was screeching at him, he made sure to check over his shoulder and press a small button on its side. Just great, it wasn't a test… "Hey, Boss!" the young man shouted as he quickly swept the dust under one of the aisle's merchandise shelves, "I gotta go!"

"Again!?" the man demanded, poking his head out as Philip rushed off to put the broom away in the closet, "What's the fire this time?"

"…Family matter!" Philip replied after a moment of hesitation. He tromped quickly to the door and opened it, letting the bell above the door ring loudly.

"It's ALWAYS a family matter!" the man said angrily, appearing behind the counter and glaring at his worker, "Someday, you're going to have to think of a better excuse than that, Jackson!"

"I know," Philip said sympathetically, "But now's not the time! I'll see you again if I can finish this up!"

"Boy, this is coming out of your pay!" The owner threatened. Philip would have to live with that as he slammed the door and sprinted down the crowded sidewalk. The owner grumbled angrily and leaned against the counter in frustration. "That boy…" If he wasn't such a valuable commodity for the music store, that kid would have had his butt fired months ago, and he knew it, too!

---

Philip continued to rush down the busy street, muttering apologies as he squeezed past people and stopping only when he came upon a darkened alleyway. He just hoped no one was in there, preferably muggers. Sliding inside, the young man leaned against the wall and slid down behind a couple of trash cans. There, he returned to his watch. Pressing another button, he waited patiently for the small analog screen to change. The face of a familiar face appeared. "You're late," the graying man said with a frown.

"I'm sorry Commander, but you know how life is…" Philip said, panting heavily not only because he had been running so fast, but because he wanted to make sure the commander knew he did so.

"Indeed…" the commander replied, "Agent BA-5, I will be sending you the information you need soon enough. Have you heard her call for help yet?"

Philip chuckled lightly in embarrassment. "Someone's calling?" he asked, "I'm sorry Commander… I guess I'm not that good yet…"

The commander pursed his lips. "Of course… I'll be sending backup. Do you think you can handle a job with BA-3 and BA-4?"

"Of course, Sir," Spin said, always aiming to please, "Just leave it to me!"

The man nodded. "Right, then I'll send Derek and Morris to the coordinates specified. Don't let me down, Agent Spin!"

The young man saluted the commander rather poorly. "You can count on me!"

The commander's face winked out, and Philip looked down at the tiny information that displayed on the watch's face. Huh, he never knew elderly women called for help as well… Philip stood up, brushed his rear of dirt, and removed his jacket. Pulling out a backpack from god knows where, he dragged out a formal over shirt and tie. In a flash, he was dressed in a tuxedo of tremendous fashion (he only had a little hard time applying his tie, as he still wasn't used to putting it on in a timely state). Finally, he pulled out the finishing touches. After applying his sunglasses and his trademark headphones (with two large stars on the casing of his earpieces), the young Philip J Jackson transformed immediately into BA-5, AKA Agent Spin.

Packing his jacket away, he pulled a small cube from his inner breast pocket, and pressed a small button on it. Immediately, the cube expanded to that of a large jet pack. He always loved using his jet pack, although he had to keep reminding himself that it didn't actually belong to him. He strapped the pack on, held his backpack in the crook of his elbow, and pressed a button. Immediately, the young agent was off to the coordinates on his watch. It was up to him to help the woman with her problems.

As he soared off into the sky, people of all kinds blinked at the trail of smoke that zoomed off into the air. With a slight shrug, they then returned to their lives. After all, stranger things had been seen in the busy town…

---

Philip J Jackson is BA-5, AKA Agent Spin. His family consisted of himself, his sister, father, and his paternal grandmother after his mother left them. There were a lot of court proceedings that Philip didn't remember much, probably to protect himself rather than because he was so young. Eventually his father went off to "the war" that will forever be unnamed but due to this taking place in the present time, you can sort of guess which one. Philip is proud of his old man, despite how he feels about the war itself, and waits for his return by trying to take on responsibility as "the man" of the household. Sometimes, though, it's real hard juggling a secret as well as a public life, and he tends to look to his "coworkers" to ask just how to keep everything afloat. Whether or not the answers are good is one thing, though, and Philip has to take everything he hears from them with a grain of salt.

I dunno if anyone cares, but the names that come out of here really are quite strange, so I figure I'll give you some reason for my madness:

Philip J Jackson is a little easy to figure out. When thinking of a name, I had been watching way too much Futurama, and Philip J Fry kept getting stuck in my head. Not exactly sure why, seeing as how that would probably fit Agent J a little better, but oh well, that's the way the cookie crumbles?

Jackson, as we all know, is totally a rip off from the king of pop, Michael Jackson. I figured he had to be named after SOMETHING musically inclined. It also seems to flow off the tongue: say "J Jackson" out loud. See? I dunno it sounded nice.

And guess what Christy I bet NO ONE CARES.

REGARDLESS. Send a review my way. Tell me what you liked and what you hated. Critique is just as acceptable as praise; I know this isn't anywhere near very awesome so I'd like to find out ways to improve. Thank you!


	2. Introducing BA 4 and BA 3

I honestly have nothing to say at the moment. Apologies.

Aside from if you also like Ouendan, I'm doing Ouendan things in its category, so if you want to look, head over there, or just check out my gallery and get to it from there.

And now... READ ON!

---

Meanwhile, in a normal semi suburban home, the entire house was filled to the brim with music. Beautiful, serene music wafted through the home as a man of slight renown bent over his laptop. He was glaring at the words that were sitting nicely on the screen, as if being angry at them would make his writer's block disappear. Beethoven's 6th symphony died down as the man continued to glare at the screen, and the music changed…

…to hard hitting, ear deafening rock. Suddenly, the man knew exactly what to write! He hammered away at the keyboard as the house practically shook from the intense bass. Eventually, a door opened and the man barely acknowledged the woman who entered the room. "Good afternoon, Morris," the woman said.

"Had a nice nap, Nichole?" Morris Shakur asked his wife.

"Until something woke me up," she replied with a smile. She reached down to the man in the chair, wrapped her arms around his neck, and stared at the words that appeared on the screen. "How long until your deadline?" she asked.

"Three weeks," he said as the music pounded all around them. Nichole scanned the document, and licked the top of her lip.

"Huh… pick up the pace then, will ya?" she asked, kissing her husband on the temple before releasing him to head to the kitchen, "You keep procrastinating, and you'll end up crashing and burning at the very end."

"Yeah, yeah," Morris replied with nary a skipped beat. Silence passed between the two (because they couldn't get a word in edgewise with the loud music shouting through the place) and only fled when Nichole returned to the room with two cups of coffee in her hands. The moment she did, the music immediately changed to a strange techno beat. Nichole twitched only slightly; why was her house always reduced to a funhouse of mismatched music? "Pick a genre and stick to it, Morris. It's giving me a headache hearing everything jumbled like this. I'm sure the neighbors are none too thrilled with your musical arrangement either." She placed the coffee down on a coaster next to the mouse. "So, what's it about?"

"Kid named Nathan gets drafted to the United Universal Government and he learns to pilot a spaceship to stop an alien force from taking a vital Human base," Morris muttered as he typed away, "Yours?"

"Two people fall in love until the woman finds out her boyfriend just got superpowers and an arch nemesis," Nichole said between slurps from her drink, "It's more comedy than romance, for once."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Morris replied with a smile. The two sat for a moment, drinking and typing (respectively), and Nichole suddenly spoke:

"You pulled another all-nighter, didn't you?"

"Hmm?" he asked, not bothering to look at his wife. She gave a groan and placed her mug on the desk. She grasped her husband's bearded face with her two hands and wrenched his eyes away from the screen. She then gave him a deep kiss, which she had learned was the only way to cure Morris of his "eternal typing mode". Finally, when she was sure she had his complete and undivided attention, she released her husband and leveled with him.

"You pulled another all-nighter, didn't you Morris?"

"What makes you say that?" Morris asked, blinking sand and bags from his eyes. Nichole crossed her arms and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I'm fine, Nichole, I took a nap a while ago."

Morris' wife was surprised, to say the least. A nap for Morris? That didn't seem right… "Since when?" she asked, extremely suspicious.

"I saw you sleeping when I was… changing…" Morris said, "and you looked so peaceful…"

"So while I was sleeping, you snuck into bed, and woke up before I did?" Nichole had to admit, it did seem a lot like him. Morris was never much of a sleeper; he could get by with four hours of sleep a day. Insomniac Morris was his nickname for those who knew him. "You really should try and sleep a little more. You'll get sick if you don't take care of yourself…"

Something screeched loudly, much louder than the music around them. Nichole winced visibly as Morris's watch (which sat nicely on the desk) vibrated and rang loudly at them. Morris reached out and grasped it, looking it over. Nichole frowned when he pressed a button, nodded, and stood. "Hey, Sweety, I have something I need to take care of."

"What about your story? I thought we all agreed never to procrastinate!" Nichole said, hoping that would get him to stay in one location for two seconds, at least! Morris kissed her, passed her his tongue, and pulled back to apply a dark tie.

"I'll get to it later!" Morris said with a smile as he threaded his arms through his over shirt and buttoned it up. Nichole tried to get him to stop for just one second, but he was already heading towards the door, applying his favorite hat (recently washed by his wife).

"Morris, if you do this again, I swear…!"

"I'll pick up dinner on the way home! Love you, Dear!"

"Don't DEAR me!!" Nichole shouted, "Listen to me for once!"

"There's no time!" Morris slammed the door before she got angry enough to start throwing items at him. He pressed a button on the cube located on the inside of his breast pocket, and before Nichole could open the door to chastise her husband any longer, he was gone.

Nichole twitched angrily at her husband's ability to disappear at inopportune moments, and whirled around. The next scene she would write in her novel would DEFINITELY include an annoying husband who never listened to his wife getting his butt fried by the hero's arch nemesis. It was only fair!

---

Across town in a relatively normal college, students gabbed their gobs happily, speaking brightly and chattering away about boyfriends, upcoming projects, and which movie should be seen by their friends. However, the moment HE walked by, they immediately shut their mouths. At first glance, people wondered if Doctor Derek Redwood was really a fun guy. He had curly, bright red hair that fell to his shoulders, and he tied it back in a ponytail so it would bounce as he walked. It was when they got a good look at his face that they cringed. Professor Redwood's look had frozen with a frown that creased his face. He definitely seemed like the last person anyone would ever befriend.

That was probably why his math class that focused on physics was the hardest one to pass on the campus grounds. It wasn't that he couldn't teach it; it was just that he was extremely strict. Those who entered his class and actually tried to pass it found that he was a wonderful teacher. He just didn't have any time for partiers. So as he passed by various students, they shut up, shied away from him, and avoided him altogether.

"Dr. Redwood! Dr. Redwood!" Derek was surprised that he heard a student calling his name, but he didn't let it show. He simply turned and looked at Terri Adams, the young woman who was falling behind in her classes. She was one of the few students who actually cared about what she was learning, but Derek saw that she just didn't seem to be the kind of person who could grasp the theories. "I was having a little trouble on my homework. I wanted to know if…"

Derek looked at the shy woman as she gulped and adjusted her glasses. "Could you help me, Dr. Redwood…?"

The professor stared at his student and nodded. "Understood. I will be at my office at three thirty. I will answer any questions you have. Can I expect you to be there?"

"Y…yes, Dr. Redwood!" Terri said with a smile. She twirled around and practically skipped off. She was so happy that she could get her professor's help without losing her head! Derek watched as she reunited with her friends and walked off with them. There went a girl who actually cared about what she was learning! There was hope for Humanity yet.

Just as the professor turned around to return to his hating of people in general, something buzzed on his wrist. His watch, which was on a silent mode, vibrated and buzzed tremendously. Derek knew what to do, and immediately hopped to it. He wanted to finish his mission before three o' clock, because he'd be damned if he blew off an appointment with a student who actually cared about her studies. He ducked off of the campus as quickly as possible, and pulled his hair out of his ponytail. He grasped an afro pick from his inner breast pocket along with a curiously looking cube. It was time for the man with the red afro to join the charge.

In a moment, he had his sunglasses applied and was gone, blasting off into the great wide blue.

---

Agent Spin checked his watch one more time, making sure he was on the right track. Apparently the woman in question was Amanda Ferguson, a sixty-seven year old single grandmother of seven who lived alone on the outskirts of town. She had won three contests for largest pumpkin on the western coast, but now her growth formula was her downfall. Apparently she accidentally dropped an entire bucket of formula on a rather nasty weed, and it sprout up to gargantuan size in three point four seconds flat. Spin whistled. "That's one potent growth formula," he mused as the watch beeped lightly, showing that the agent was closing in on his target.

Spin pulled back to get a good look at the fifteen foot behemoth. The huge weed was so large it had grown sentient, and decided to tear up poor Amanda's garden before squashing her squash and leaving to spread his seed somewhere nasty, like in the middle of a well manicured lawn. It was then that he heard the cry from the old woman.

"HEEEEAAALP!!" The scream resounded through the air. Spin wondered how such an old woman could fill her lungs up with so much air. Also, where in the world was his backup? He was a rookie agent and he had to go this mission alone? The commander probably was trying to get back at him for being late. Shrugging lightly and wishing he had some salt to throw over his shoulder, Spin zoomed downwards, straight towards his target.

Amanda watched in utter horror as the giant and evil weed tore up her pansies and threw her strawberry plants over her fence. "HEEEEAAALP!!" she shouted again, "Someone, help me!"

A small streak suddenly appeared in the sky, zipping straight towards her. Agent Spin straightened out and stood erect as he came in for a landing. He placed his foot on the floor, overestimated his landing, and fell face forward on the ground with a "thunk!" The woman inspected the teenager as he lay motionless on the floor. "Oh Boy… are you alright?"

"Never been better!" Spin suddenly shouted, dragging himself up before his pride shattered any more. He dusted his suit of upturned dirt and wiped blood from his damaged nose. "Now then…!" He fished around and pulled up a wallet along with a microphone (which still seemed to be alright even after the crash landing). He placed the hand with the microphone over one of his earpieces, adjusting his headphones, and flipped his wallet open, showing a badge of shining luster. Just above it read the letters "BA-5" with a tiny photo of the smiling agent. "Agent Spin of the Elite Beat Agents here, at your service, Ma'am! What seems to be the problem?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the woman cried, pointing up at the monstrosity before them. Spin sighed; he hated having to ask for the problem when it was obvious. Just because it was protocol didn't mean a thing… "I need it gone! It's ruining everything!"

"Right! Hey, Lady, you got any weed killer?" Spin asked, "You're going to need a lot of it…"

"I'll go collect it, and then…"

"This weed's going straight to the compost heap. At least he'll make a whole lot of manure when he's ground into mulch," Spin said, tapping his microphone to see if it was on. The woman returned with a large bottle of spray weed killer, and the agent sighed. "Well then, Are You Ready?" he asked her. She nodded lightly, and Spin started off, "Three! Two! One! GO!"

Spin tapped his foot to the sudden beat that he created. His fingers snapped, his foot tapped, and he twirled around lightly, cheering the woman on. "You can do it! Let's get rid of this weed," he said, "Work hard, you can defeat him! Let's dance! Put on your red shoes and dance…!"

The beat was contagious, the music was recognizable, and Agent Spin made sure that he didn't miss a step. He was still a rookie, so it was hard to do the hardest and most powerful dance moves, but he'd be damned if he didn't do his hardest with what he did know! Pretty soon, Amanda learned that she just didn't have enough weed killer with what she bought at the store. She would have to make her own. She rushed towards her house and Spin saw the weed attempt to strike. "Hey Lady! Watch out!"

The woman nimbly dodged the weed's attack, and Spin was surprised and respectful of the sixty-seven year old woman who could jump that high. He wasn't sure if it was because she was strong and healthy at an old age or if it was because of his cheering. Nevertheless, the woman returned from her house with enough acidic things to make the weed's roots tremble with fear. Spin couldn't give up now; he was only halfway through his cheer! "Let's go!" he said, slamming his foot on the ground to reinforce the dominant beat, "And if you say 'run'… I'll run with you…!"

The young man did a slight twirl during his dance, and he lost his balance. He placed his foot down to catch himself, and his step was off. The beat continued without him, and he struggled to keep up with it. His feet moved too fast and his singing was off key. His headphones did nothing to keep the sounds of the world away; he could hear Amanda cry out as the weed assaulted the old woman, and Spin tripped over his own two feet, landing heavily on the floor.

The Agent wondered where he went wrong. It was a misplaced step, he should have been wary…! The sentient weed cackled aloud as it slammed one of its fist-like leaves onto the ground. Amanda barely dodged it in time. "It'll never be beaten at this rate!" she cried.

Spin dragged himself upward. His headphones sat askew on his ears and his sunglasses had a small crack in them, but he didn't care, he had to help Amanda! That's what agents did, after all!

"BA-5!" Spin stopped in his tracks and whirled around. There, sitting in the light of the sun, were two Elite Beat Agents that were coming in for a landing. Spin stood out of the way as the two people landed in unison and immediately showed their credentials. "BA-3, Agent Morris, here!"

"BA-4, Agent Derek, here," the other said halfheartedly, despite the fact that his fiery red afro caught nearly everyone's attention whenever he appeared, "BA-5, how badly did you screw up this time?"

"Screw up?" Spin asked. He tucked in his undershirt, snorted the blood dripping down his nose, and adjusted his askew headphones. "What makes you think I'm screwing up?"

"Leave it to me, BA-5," Morris said, "Hey weed! You think you can handle the four of us?" Spin slunk backwards as Morris taunted the sentient plant. The young agent frowned deeply.

"It's not fair; I did a good job too… I just messed up once…"

"You're lucky this mission wasn't very demanding," Derek said with arms crossed as the agents prepared for their next cheer, "If you mess up during a harder one…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know…" Spin muttered, "Death to the world and all that… I get it, I get it."

"Are You Ready, Ma'am?" Morris asked of the subject, interrupting the subordinate agents and immediately taking the lead, "Now then, let's finish this! Three! Two! One…!"

---

It took a long and grueling cheer, but eventually Amanda raised a bucket of vinegar and splashed it directly onto the weed. It gave a screech and began to shrink back down to the small weed it once was. Amanda picked it with a smile and threw it into the mulcher with the rest of the weeds, and once again, all was well. The woman turned to thank the men for their assistance, and blinked in revelation; they had already disappeared. She frowned lightly, and shouted into the sky. "Well, thanks anyway!"

Agent Spin heard every word, and smiled at the other agents. "Did you hear that? We got a 'thank you'!"

"Not very often you get that…" Agent Morris mused with a fleeting grin, "anyway, Agents, I think this qualifies as a…"

"Mission Complete!" Spin shouted as the three rocketed along on their jet packs. Derek gave Morris a two fingered, unofficial salute, and reported.

"I must be off. Unlike some people, I actually have places to be at specified times."

"Is that a jab, BA-4?" Morris asked, reminding his subordinate of his rank. Derek's face didn't change simply because he was always glaring at something or another. The superior agent stopped zooming forward on his jet pack and craned his next to look at BA-4. "See you again then. I'll turn in whatever paperwork you need."

"I owe you one," Derek said in a tone that didn't sound like he was very appreciative. Of course, Derek never seemed to appreciate anything. Spin watched as BA-4 zipped off, and BA-5 smirked at Morris.

"Hey Morris… can you do my paperwork for me too?" he asked with a mischievous smile, "I mean, I have a job to get back to and all…"

"You need practice. Back to EBA Central with you," Morris replied. Spin wilted and BA-3 winked at the young man. "Better learn to get used to this. Not like secret agents can drop their agenting at the drop of a hat, you know." And with that, the two flew off towards the Elite Beat Agents' headquarters. Spin trailed behind his superior, in deep thought.

"Did he actually say 'agenting'…?" he muttered to himself. Morris must REALLY be tired if the linguist was saying words that didn't exist…

---

Morris Shakur is a slightly famous writer of Space Dramas; he met his wife, a romance novelist, when a mutual friend suggested they co-author something. They were against it, but the next thing they knew, the book was written and printed, and the two were walking down the aisle together. The two share nothing in common except for their love of writing, so while the new marriage is still on its feet, it's by no means easy to sustain.

Morris's first name is obvious, being an agent employed before Agent J came around and gaining nicknames practically became a tradition, and Shakur came from a friend of mine, who was being "Funny" when she told me to name him after Mopreme Shakur, the rapper. Oh well, joke's on her now.

Doctor Derek Redwood was born an orphan and was known by all that he would never get anywhere in life. With his strength and determination guiding him, however, he gained enough money to put himself through college multiple times, gaining three doctorates at an extremely young age. He's working on his fourth while being an agent, and puts extreme hard work before anything. It isn't strange to see Agent Derek appear to cheer despite heavy flu (or something even worse) symptoms. Derek believes that anything can be solved by TRYING HARDER. Oh, and cheering doesn't hurt either.

His last name, Redwood, comes, of course, from the Redwood trees in Northern California, the state I was born in. Or one could go out on a limb and say that he's named after the song, band, or album named _Redwood_. Whichever you want.

Anyway, a review would be nice. It'd be cool to know if people actually visit this place anymore. Have a great week and see you next Wednesday!


	3. Meteor Shower

awwwyeah a little early to make up for the late one. Also it's long to make up for the fact that you have dry time between my next upload.

Like anyone actually cares. OH WELLSSS

READ ON!

---

EBA Central, the Elite Beat Agents' headquarters, didn't exist. At least, that's what the government continued to insist. That meant the huge square footage wasn't actually used as a training center for young geniuses of music and dance, but actually a Wal-Mart sitting in the middle of a desert no one bothered to visit. At least, that's what the government wanted everyone to believe.

…It was surprising how many people believed them…

In the middle of the briefing room, a strawberry blond man in his late twenties leaned back in his chair. He balanced on the back legs, his feet propped precariously on the table before him, mashing the papers on said table with dirty heels. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was balancing his pen between his upper lip and nose. BA-2, AKA Agent J, loved balancing. The better his balance, the greater his dancing was.

"Of course," he thought to himself as he continued to balance the pencil precariously, "it's not like my dancing could ever get any better…"

"Are you so sure about that, BA-2?" A deep throated voice asked, scaring J slightly. He raised his feet, which tilted his chair back, which sent him falling straight to the floor with a "klunk!" The agent rubbed the back of his head as a headache formed, and he looked up at the glowering face of the burly BA-1, AKA Agent Chieftain. "Perhaps you should learn to lower your stress. You're very tense, Agent J…"

"I wouldn't be so high strung if you didn't materialize out of thin air at random intervals," J replied with a smirk as Chieftain moved to the papers on the desk, "Are you sure you're not a ghost?"

"Hmmm… unfinished paperwork…" Chieftain murmured, ignoring J's jab. BA-2 was always making some crack at humor, and the other agents eventually learned to pay no heed to it altogether. "What would the commander say of such lackluster drive?"

"Awww, I was getting to that," J muttered as he dragged himself upwards and adjusted the chair so he could sit down in it again, "I was just… busy…"

"Mhm…" Chieftain replied, staring at the dirty heel imprint on it, "I see…" He tapped the papers into a neat pile and handed the thick sheaf to the subordinate agent. "Get done with this ASAP. I'm not going to be able to baby sit you tonight. I have more important things to take care of."

"Something's more important than protecting the world from the supernatural and mundane?" J asked with faux surprise, "Surely, Chieftain must need to straighten his priorities."

"Perhaps," Chieftain said as he went to went to collect the over shirt he had hung over a chair next to J. He held it over his shoulder and scratched his beard a bit. "But then again… perhaps not. I suppose you won't understand until you have kids of your own, BA-2."

Oh yeah, that was right. Chieftain was the agent with the family. J waved his hand nonchalantly as BA-1 went to leave the headquarters. "Well then, it's probably better that you continue populating the planet than me. I have better things to do than waste precious resources taking care of children." BA-1 ignored the jab. He always did.

J waited until Chieftain left, and then BA-2 sighed lightly, glaring at the paperwork on the desk. He could dance seven ways from Sunday, sing high alto and low bass, and also bluff himself out of practically any bit of work thrown at him, so he thought that perhaps he could develop laser vision and burn the paper, destroying the evidence. BA-2 sighed and retrieved the pen from the floor, and began to fill everything out.

A small tic appeared in his eye when the door was opened and two people came charging in. Agent Spin wasn't allowed to be full of exuberance if he wasn't! BA-5 practically bounded across the room, intent on finishing quickly so he could apologize to his boss for leaving so quickly. "Hey, Morris, you'll help me if I need assistance, right?"

"I'll do what I can, Spin," Morris said with a smile. He passed J by and the two sat down at other chairs, BA-5 worked furiously as J tapped the unexposed pen on the table in anger.

"So…" BA-2 said, intent on getting some conversation in before he exploded. Spin looked up at him expectantly, and J continued. "…How's life…?"

"Not nearly as exciting as yours," Spin replied, petting J's ego. Agent J smiled. Most agents didn't know their coworker's alter egos, but it was kind of hard to NOT know J's name. His face was the biggest in musical theater. Jason Matthews, famous musical, dancing and acting genius, the most famous star that the country's favorite and most well respected musical theater had ever had. Spin always looked up to J, as people actually cared about what he said or did. "Just some schoolwork, a job… rent… getting rejected by Asha…"

"Whoa whoa whoa…" J leaned across the table to stare disapprovingly at Spin. "Asha? That chick you've been hounding since you hit puberty?" Spin glared at BA-2. He always made it sound like it was a BAD thing that he had practically stalked her since he knew her. "And you still haven't raked her in?"

"Is there a problem with that…?" Spin said, suddenly defensive. He was sorry he ever mentioned her name to the musical star. Sure, every agent was tightlipped enough to keep secret the lives of their coworkers if ever something came up about their lives, but every time Asha was brought up to BA-2, he would poke fun at BA-5's inability to make out with any woman he desired. "I mean, I'm sure she just has decided not to get a boyfriend until… you know… later on in life… when she's more stable…"

J burst into laughter, clutching his side and leaning across the table as he guffawed loudly. BA-5 frowned sadly at BA-2's display. How come actors always had to be so emotive about their… emotions…? Morris stared frowningly at the superior agent as Spin doodled dejectedly on his paperwork. "Oh… oh… OH… oh that's rich…!" BA-2 laughed, finally dragging himself upwards, "Oh man… oh man, my side hurts…" He wiped tears from his eyes and looked at Morris and Spin, who stared angrily and dismally back at him (respectively). "Oh… OH… You actually meant that…!" He stopped chuckling, and did his best not to continue his laughing escapades. He coughed loudly and leveled with BA-5. "Look, Spin. The number rule about women is that they LIKE it when you're an ass. They like bad boys! Rough someone up; show her how much she'll regret not ever choosing you in the first place!"

Morris grunted as J continued speaking. He was poisoning the minds of the youth, and Morris decided it was madness to say anything different. Poor Spin was gobbling up every word J said like popcorn. "Believe you me, this is probably the most important thing. Once the woman thinks you to be…"

BA-3 couldn't bear to keep listening to the man. "So… Agent J, is this the reason you're married?" J stopped and turned to Morris. "I mean… I would assume if you know the secrets of snatching a woman…"

"Since when did I say you needed to get married? This is how you pick up floozies!" J said. Morris smiled when Spin suddenly snapped.

"Asha's not a floozy!" BA-5 shouted. BA-2 nearly winced at Spin's force. The power of their cheering was pretty strong, and the agents could use it for either inspiring or intimidating. J just didn't know Spin had it in him. "She's the greatest woman in our class and gets straight As and is PERFECT!"

"Ahh, to be young again…" Morris murmured as BA-2 and BA-5 fought amongst each other. He remembered when he fought for the honor of Nichole on one of their first dates…

"Can it, BA-3, you haven't even grayed yet!" J said, suddenly in a foul mood, "Listen, Spin, listen to me. Ladies like it when…"

"Come to think of it…" Spin muttered, interrupting J and thinking deeply, "I haven't heard too much news about you and any women. I mean, if you were hanging out with floozies, shouldn't there be some news about you and Jennifer Lopez being an item or something?"

"Pssh, she's not my type," J muttered, suddenly looking very intent on getting his work done rather than look at BA-5.

Spin stared at J's sunglasses with a half-banked glare. "They think you're gay, don't they?"

J twitched, opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "You need to learn to watch your mouth around your superiors, BA-5!" And with that, he bent down and scribbled furiously at the papers in front of him.

Morris whistled, "Well done, BA-5…" he murmured, whispering into Spin's headphones, "You actually got J to do his work for once…" Spin and Morris smirked at each other. BA-3 was a cool guy, for being so much older than the teenager…

"Well, I think I'm done!" Spin said, giving the papers a once over before standing up, "I'll go deliver these to Foxx and be off." Morris gave Spin a two fingered salute that had become the EBA's tradition, and wished him luck on Asha. "Thanks, I'll see you guys again." J grumbled from his work, and Spin turned to leave. BA-3 smiled at BA-2, shook his head slightly, and returned to his work. He had plenty of work before tonight…!

---

Geoffrey Smith raked a hand through his long, curly hair. Perhaps he should cut it back sometime…? He deposited his sunglasses and ID that read "BA-1" into his pack that seemed to appear and disappear just as easily as he did. He sighed lightly and parked the car at the curb right in front of the elementary school. He rolled down the window and a bright, beaming face grinned at him. "Hi Dad!" James Gutierrez-Smith said, "I should have known you'd be late to pick me up!"

"I'm sorry, James," Geoffrey replied as James opened the back door and stowed away his backpack so he had enough room to sit up with his father, "How was school?"

"The kids made fun of my hair again," James admitted, "But I didn't listen to them…" He waited a while and silence passed between father and son. "Can I get my hair straightened?"

"Why would you want that?" Geoffrey immediately asked.

"Because all these curls tangle my hair… and everyone says that…"

"I thought you said you didn't listen to them…"

"Yeah…" James pressed his nose against the car window as his father drove down the freeway, "But what if they're right…?" Geoffrey didn't speak for a while, as it appeared nothing he said would get through the kid's head.

Eventually, he found something to say and said it, "You know, being different isn't a bad thing…"

"I KNOW, Dad…!" the second grader groaned, exasperated at hearing the same speech over and over again, "I just…!"

"If you're just like everyone else, James…" Geoffrey said, interrupting his son, "Then you can't be just like me." James opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. His father was so different from anyone he ever met, and he had always said he wanted to be just like "my dad!" James shut his mouth and looked down at his hands in his lap.

"Hey Dad…?" Geoffrey glanced at his son before returning to the road, and James practically writhed with joy in his car seat. "Thanks…"

The man beamed. "You're very welcome, Son."

---

Geoffrey watched as he son bolted from the car when the man parked the car. The boy grasped his backpack and rushed towards the front door, eager to get inside. The man smiled lightly as he locked the fancy car and looked up at the huge house before them. Sometimes he wondered just how he could have gotten so lucky as to find himself living in a great neighborhood, with a happy and obedient son, a wonderful house, a beautiful wife…

"Dad…!" James said expectantly, "I'd like to go inside and get my homework done sometime this YEAR?"

Geoffrey chuckled under his breath; maybe "obedient" wasn't the best choice of words. He walked forward with a light apology to his son and opened the door, allowing the child to rush in. "Hurry, Dad! I need some help with my multiplication tables!"

"Of course, James. I'm coming." He closed the door and followed his son into the room, where the boy was unpacking his backpack of homework. He placed his over coat on the back of his chair and settled down. "Now, what seems to be the problem?"

"Sevens…" James groaned, "I don't understand them at all!"

Geoffrey opened the textbook and thumbed through until he came to the right page. "Well then, let's practice them, alright?" He read off the numbers as the boy scratched his head, and the two worked for nearly an hour, sitting close and doing James's homework. The two hardly noticed that time was passing by so fast; when Geoffrey glanced randomly at the kitchen clock he blinked and placed the textbook in his son's lap. "We'll have to practice later, James. I need to make dinner. Anything in particular you want?"

"Hot dogs!" The boy said immediately, still scribbling something on the paper.

Geoffrey frowned at his son. "Didn't we have hot dogs yesterday?"

"Nuh uh!" James insisted, explaining everything in excruciating detail as he ticked the events off on his fingers, "Mom wanted lamb chops, remember? I wanted hot dogs but then she called and she was like, 'I don't want the lamb chops to go bad'! So we had to have lamb chops and applesauce!" The boy made a face at the thought.

"Right then, hot dogs and no applesauce," Geoffrey replied. He stood up and went to the counter. "How about some corn to go with it?"

"On the cob?"

"Canned." James groaned. Geoffrey shrugged. "Hey, that's the way this cookie crumbles. Now go pack up your homework and wash your hands. Hopefully I'll be finished before your mother returns."

The second grader grumbled lightly about having to wash up, and he packed everything away so he could throw it somewhere in his room. His father didn't like a mess around his house, after all, but his room was HIS, so he was allowed to make it as messy as he wanted. That was, until Dad would come by and throw a fit. The moment he threw his backpack in his messy room, he rushed into the bathroom and rinsed his hands with water. Just in time, the door opened and a woman called out to her beloved son. "Hola, mijo! How's my little one?"

"Mom!" James rushed down the stairs from the second floor to leap into Maria Gutierrez-Smith's arms. She caught him expertly the moment she dropped her bag, and she nuzzled her son close to him. "Mom! Mom! I swallowed a bug today!"

"Oh really?" Maria asked as she placed her son on the floor.

"Yeah! I don't know why I swallowed a fly. Perhaps I'll die!" James said. Maria laughed lightly as she pulled her hair out of her bun and adjusted her cravat so she wouldn't be so stifled. Being the CEO of a major corporation that manufactured everything from washing machines to blue cheese was hard work, after all! She followed her son into the kitchen, where she found her husband. Geoffrey's hair was tied back and he was grilling the hot dogs in a frying pan. He looked up and turned to his wife with a small grin reserved only for his family.

She looked down at the apron given to them by his mother. It was white and pink, and it had frills. In other words, it was meant for her when it was first bought. "You know, Geoffrey…" She decided on a better word so as not to make him feel bad. "Querido… you don't have to get rid of it, but I think you need a new apron..."

"Dad's a giiiiiirl!" James said with a laugh as he sat down at the table. He swung his legs as he playfully mocked his father.

Geoffrey didn't reply to his son, but addressed his wife. "How was work?" he asked as he scooped the corn from the can.

"As well as ever. Which isn't all that well," she replied with a halfhearted smile, "Stock's going down a bit and all…"

"You're worried?" her husband asked, "I'm sure everything will be alright."

"Mm, of course," she replied, "I'll just go and change into something a little more comfortable. James, be a dear and set the table."

"Alright, Mom!" James said, sliding out of the chair he was sitting in. Just as Maria turned to find something more appropriate for around the house, she was stopped by her husband. She turned to face him and he gave her a heavy kiss. James made a face and looked away before he threw up.

"Welcome home, Dear," he said before he released her. Maria stared at Geoffrey, and she whispered into his ear:

"Don't think you're getting extra sex for that little bit, Querido. The meteor shower's tonight, after all." She kissed her husband on the cheek and turned to change into something nicer. Geoffrey blinked as he stood in the kitchen. He forgot, the meteor shower WAS tonight!

"Daaaaad!" James whined, "The food's getting cold!"

Geoffrey nodded, and untied his apron. "Yeah, coming right up, James."

---

Work was done, and the sun along with its sunlight dipped under the horizon, covering the large town in beautiful, pink and purple dusk, and then finally the whole city turned a lovely shade of blue when serene night came. Jason Matthews, done with paperwork and rehearsals, entered his large penthouse on the nice side of town. It was big, painted nicely with various greens bases and white trims, but overall it was just too big and empty. He could make it echo if he wanted to. The secret agent grasped at his tie and threw it away over the arm of a couch. Maybe he should get a dog…

…oh wait, he was allergic…

Jason sighed and settled down on the couch, kicked off his shoes and placed his feet on the couch. He didn't need anyone right now! The TV was good enough! He switched it on and looked though the guide. He mussed up his pompadour when he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. Damn it, there was nothing good on! Finally, he switched to the news and decided to go to sleep listening to it. Then he could pretend someone actually lived there with him.

…he really needed that dog…

"This night is going to be one of the most special nights of the decade! Barbara, could you tell us why?" the anchorman asked of the woman to the right of him.

"Of course, Harold," Barbara replied. She faced a new camera as a visual popped up in the corner. "Tonight is going to be a meteor shower of the finest kind. No telescopes needed, folks! Just stand outside and look up. The meteors will be so large that you can see them even with the town's bright lights."

"That's got to be some huge meteors, Barbara. Are you sure they aren't going to get through the atmosphere?"

"That's the point, Harold," another anchorwoman, the one named Delilah on the left, said, "Scientists assume that they will land in the Pacific Ocean. Many marine biologists are afraid that they'll damage some of the coral there."

"But I'm sure the meteorologists will be delighted to scuba dive for some rock samples that are out of this world!" The anchor people laughed halfheartedly in unison, and Jason turned off the set in disgust. People really needed to learn how to deliver their lines properly. Humor was a lost art, and he wished people learned how to use it properly…

Although… that meteor shower may just be the thing the perk him up. He could just imagine the other agents watching for the meteors… perhaps then he could watch the same thing they were… It was a start, at least…

Jason sat up and took off his shoes. When was that shower starting…? He checked his watch, and found that it would be another few hours. What could he do to kill a few hours…? He scratched his head, and decided a shower of his own wouldn't be a bad idea. He shed his watch and walked off to the bathroom.

---

Meanwhile, a small home down towards the lower parts of the city rang aloud with the sound of one annoying young woman. "I don't care about no meteor shower! I wanna watch Class of 3000!"

Philip groaned at the antics of Jessie Jackson, his sister. All he wanted to do was go out and drive out of town and away from the smog so he could see the meteor shower, but his grandmother refused to let him go alone. Jessie needed to come with him so she could experience the night of a lifetime. There was only one problem. Jessie didn't want to go. "Come on, Sis! Just one night, you can miss that show. I want to go see the shower!"

"Tough," Jessie replied, flipping channels until she got to the one she wanted. Philip seriously wanted to slam his head against something. Looking at extraterrestrial rocks couldn't be THIS hard…!

"What can I do to let you come with me?" Philip asked. Jessie looked at her brother, and he immediately regretted asking what he did. She stretched out on the couch and thought really hard. The suspense was what killed the young man, rather than her nasty stalling.

"Let's see…" She looked over and smiled brightly. "Oh, Philip, my friends and I wanted to go see a movie. Could you please take us out to…?"

"I can't just be your chauffer! I have other things to work on!" Philip said angrily, "Come on, Jessie!"

"Then you're not going anywhere!" Jessie said, setting herself harshly on the couch as the show's theme played. She crossed her arms as she glared at the set, and Philip counted backwards from ten. He'd have to thank Derek for teaching him a calming procedure that actually worked.

"L…look… I'll see if I can… maybe… I can… you know…" The young man twitched from annoyance. "Do some homework… when you're in the theater…"

"Oh, really?" Jessie immediately leaped up and rushed to the car. "Thanks, Philip! You're the best big brother ever!"

Philip really, REALLY wished he could have punched her right there. So what if she was a woman and his sister? He sighed loudly as Jessie went to turn off the television and pick up her purse. "Just… just… let's go…"

"Hurray! I can't wait to see the meteor showers!" Jessie proclaimed in a way that probably meant she actually didn't care one way or another. Her brother stomped from the house with a grumble.

---

A few streets away from Philip's home, in a well lighted room that was the dressing room for a well respected model, Jenna Wane stood in front of her mirror. She fluffed her hair back, clapped her hands together, and stood at her side, facing the mirror. "Mission Complete!" she proclaimed.

"Jenna?" The woman nearly jumped in fear as someone suddenly knocked on her door, "Jenna, are you alright? You're saying such weird things… are you practicing for an audition?"

Jenna whirled around and she laughed. "It's okay, Katie. Come on in." The door opened and Jenna's assistant and intern, Katie Santos, entered. Jenna smiled at her friend. Even if they were boss and employee, the model did enjoy the vibrant attitude of the young intern. Katie wasn't superficial like most of the other women Jenna worked with. "So, have you finished packing up for the night?"

"Uh… yeah," Katie said as she tucked a black wallet that read "BD-3" into her faux fur coat's pocket. She didn't want her cover blown…! "Just packing up. You done for today?"

"Yeah, just about," Jenna said as she tucked a black wallet that read "BD-1" into her purse. She couldn't let anyone know of her secret identity…! "The meteor shower's tonight; I was going to go see it. Do you want to come?"

Katie and Jenna, both female agents (known to the Elite Beat Agents as "Elite Beat Divas"), worked side by side without actually knowing each others' secret identities. They were the best of friends, and spending the night looking at shooting stars seemed like a nice way to bond. "Can we pick up something at Burger Boy's while we're at it?" Katie asked.

"Yeah, it's on me," Jenna replied, applying her own coat and picking up her purse, "Let's go."

That's exactly what they did.

---

It was a few miles from town where many decided to get away from the smog so they could watch the shower themselves. They were scattered far and wide, with cars parked at various distances from the road, depending on how well they were equipped with off-roading capabilities. It was at one such location that John Kahn found himself and his grandchildren. The two teenagers that were the children of his son, John Jr., stood over the desert and stared up at the stars, "I can see the Milky Way…!" Kirsten Kahn said, absolutely amazed.

Joseph Kahn yawned deeply. "I'd rather be sleeping by now…" he muttered. He never really did enjoy his visits with his grandfather. Vacations were so taxing… "When's the shower starting?"

Kirsten curled up on the hood of her grandfather's car, and the elderly man looked up at the sky. "It should be starting any time now."

"Hey Grandpa?" Kirsten attracted his attention. "I forgot to mention. I'm going to be singing a solo at church in a few weeks. You wanna hear it?"

Joseph went off, mumbling about needing to pee, and Kirsten's grandfather turned to her. "Oh really? Three weeks from now?"

"No, two." Kirsten said, "You'll be there, right?"

"Of course," John answered, "of course I'll be there. I don't have much else to do around here anyway." To his family, John Kahn was retired. He was a little young to be retired, as he was only in his sixties, but he just couldn't handle keeping a job and act as Commanding Officer of the Elite Beat Agents simultaneously. Commander Kahn, as he was known among his subordinates, always had to keep the image of a nurturing, retired grandfather. Most of the time it worked, and he really hoped he could make it work two weeks from now. He really did love hearing his family singing. It filled him with such pride…

"Grandpa!" John looked up as Kirsten pointed to the sky, "I saw one! Look! They're so bright!"

"I see them, they are…" John looked at the sky, but scanned to the right until he saw his grandson return, "Do you see that, Joseph?" Joseph mumbled something under his breath, and his grandfather turned to look back at the meteors. They really were beautiful…

He wondered if the other agents were looking at them now…

---

In town and in various locations around, the Elite Beat Agents and their branch squad, the Elite Beat Divas, watched the meteors. Jason fell asleep on his terrace watching the space rocks, Philip watched on the side of the road; Jessie was playing her Game Boy Advance in the car. Derek sat outside on his lawn, glaring at the rocks as if they were the cause of the uneducated masses. Morris held Nichole as they glanced upwards. His wife was writing notes on the feelings and beauty of the shower for use in a scene of a novel. Maria stood next to Geoffrey, who let James ride on his shoulders, and the boy leaned on his father's head as he stared through the smog at the small pinpoints of light. They were kind of boring, but they were the reason he got to stay up late, so he made sure to give them extra attention!

Outside of town, John stared upwards with his grandchildren, who had various degrees of excitement about the whole ordeal. Little did they know that only a mile away was a model and her assistant, sitting on the hood of Jenna's car, eating take out and talking about life in general.

There was one extra agent, hiding away and working extra hours at EBA Central. BD-2, Agent Foxx, typed away at her laptop and stared at the screen. She rubbed her lip in thought. Something didn't seem right.

The computer tech downloaded what information she needed, stored the USB Port away in her handbag, and turned off her computer. Standing up, Foxx moved out of the headquarters. The moment she removed her glasses and put on a jacket to keep warm in the cool desert air, she transformed into Crystal Caruso, a technical genius who always found the hum of computers music to her ears. She held her purse with determination. She needed to find out what those rocks were…

…she could have sworn that the data she collected from the rocks claimed that life was on, or in, them…

---

Uhm... I figure I'm not going to go over everyone's bio here at this moment, since they're all introduced at once. I mean seriously. Regardless, here's J:

Jason Matthews was a musical prodigy since birth. He hopped, skipped, and jumped through school by becoming a child actor at the age of six, and grew up in the limelight for his entire life. Instead of turning to full acting (although he does movies on the side), his favorite is the theater, as it never turns out quite the same every time he does it. The thrill of something different, new, and spontaneous is what drives him to fully act in the theater. He was discovered by the EBA as a teenager, and became the agents' second BA-4. However, his genius immediately rocketed him to BA-2, leaving Derek and Morris in the dust. Because of this, J is more of a leader in style than experience, and has no problem with letting Morris handle true leadership. He's just there to remind everyone which step is right, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Jason comes from just a random "J" name; later, my friend said that there weren't enough good people with the name Jason, so even when I was thinking of changing it, I didn't. Matthews was chosen because I thought it rolled off the tongue well, and it was a halfway decent last name. Nothing really special with his name Oh well.

YAY REVIEW?


	4. You're the Inspiration

Uhm... yeah.

---

Nothing that Crystal worked on, however, seemed to prove anything. The meteorites that landed in the ocean were eventually found and recovered, although they were surprisingly hollow, which seemed strange that they were able to withstand the force of Earth's atmosphere and survive their plummet to the planet below. It seemed strange both to the scientists and the diva in disguise.

However much she tried, she couldn't find anything to prove to the other agents and to her commander. If there was one thing the cool, calculated diva knew, it was to never give out any information that wasn't positively backed up with scientific fact. Since there was no life found on the meteorites, there was no way to show how her fears may be true. She decided to leave it at that for now.

She soon came to regret that decision…

One day, nearly two weeks after the shower, everything seemed normal. Over that time she worked with the agents, processed their numerous works of paper, and had enough time every day to run her computer store. She usually was on call a lot for fixing her customers' various computers, however, but she didn't mind. She loved tinkering with electronics more than any person she knew or could think of. It was one such day that she found herself in the throes of the one time it did NOT pay to know more than the person she was speaking to.

"I gave you my son's computer to fix, and you deleted everything!" the man shouted, "Why in the world should I pay you anything?"

Crystal tried not to rub her temples in annoyance, and tried to speak to him in a less than technical standpoint. Maybe then he'd understand and pay her the measly fee she asked for. "Sir, I clearly and knowledgeably stated to your son that the 341 viruses in his computer from his sister's tampering was the sole reason for my clean sweep. There was absolutely no way to fix it beyond restarting everything from scratch. HE seemed to understand it and told me that it was fine."

"I don't care about what he said! I care about what I say!" Crystal grasped the bridge of her nose and pinched harshly. Maybe she'd wake up if she attempted physical pain on herself.

Her watch screeched suddenly, and the computer tech sighed in disappointment. "Excuse me," she said, looking down to inspect her electronic contraption. The man grumbled about what could be more important than her job at the moment, and she looked back at him. "You know what, Sir? I'm busy right now. Take your computer home. You don't have to pay me a dime." She shooed him out the door and the man puffed up in self defense like a ruffled pigeon.

"Fine! And I don't think you'll ever see me here again!" He said, hefting the computer into his arms and waddling from the store. Crystal didn't pay him any mind, as he always said that. It was his son who would enter asking for assistance. The woman didn't have time for that, however. She and the other Elite Beat Divas were on call. According to the report on her watch, it was URGENT, and nothing was more urgent than the word "urgent" in capital letters. The woman placed a sign that said "Closed for the Day", left the store and locked up tight. It was getting to be dark, and she had to meet up with her coworkers ASAP. She just hoped they got there in time.

---

BD-2, Agent Foxx, arrived on the scene with time to spare. She stood on a pier at the ocean a few hours from her hometown. It was beginning to rain, and the diva wondered where her coworkers were. More importantly, she wondered where her subject was. Maximilian Steiner, age 32 and known victim of his reckless emotions, was somewhere around here, she just couldn't find him in the dark rain.

It was then that they appeared. BD-1, Agent Starr, arrived at her side. At that very moment, BD-3, Agent Missy, appeared at Starr's side. They both flipped their badges open:

"Agent BD-1, Agent Starr here!"

"Agent BD-3, Agent Missy here!" the two proclaimed in unison. They then looked at each other, and then turned to Foxx.

"Hey Foxx. Where's the subject?" they asked. Foxx wet her lips and shook her head.

"I… I just don't…" She looked around, "Unless they call for help, I can't pinpoint them…"

Missy's mouth dropped. "The… the person didn't call for help…?"

"Which only makes it more urgent," Starr murmured, "There are those who believe that they are beyond help. He… he must be around here somewhere…" She looked down the pier as the rain picked up. The divas usually didn't wear their western style cowgirl hats, and usually had them attached to a string around their neck so they fell across their back. However, with all the rain, the girls immediately put them on their heads, and scanned the pier. They found their subject, their mission, at the very edge of the pier, staring into the foaming, frothing, dark ocean.

"Oh no…!" Missy began to rush forward. "He may jump! We have to help him!"

Starr reached out and grabbed her subordinate. "Not now, Missy. We can't go like this. He didn't call for help." BD-3 turned around to stare in question a BD-1, and she motioned to Foxx.

BD-2 sighed at having to explain everything like usual. "You see, when people feel that they're beyond help, they don't call for us. Therefore, if we attempt to help them, we may be met with hostility. Our cheering can be used to inspire our subjects…"

"…but we can also use it to persuade them," Starr finished, "Just watch and learn, Rookie." Missy took a step back as the blonde took a step forward. She cupped her hands around her mouth and called quietly into the air, "Max… what are you doing…?"

The man looked up at the sky. Starr's voice had carried through the howling rain and reached him, so he thought that the wind itself was speaking to him. He hesitated, as if debating to answer the wind, but decided that everything was already gone, he might as well lose his mind while he was at it. "I… I don't think I can go on."

"Why…?" Star called out, "Why do you despair…?"

"Melissa…" Maximilian stared into the water as the rain beat all around him, "She was in the water… she went for a swim… she never came back! She killed herself in these very waters, and I can't bear life without her!"

"Max…" Starr rubbed her tongue along her upper lip in thought, and suddenly Foxx stepped forward.

"She killed herself? Surely, she could have drowned…"

"That's not so!" Maximilian shouted at the night sky, angry at the voice in the air for even assuming something so horrible, "Melissa was a wonderful swimmer! The best in the world! She wouldn't drown, never!"

Missy didn't know what to do. She stared at her superiors, hoping that they would know what to say. They seemed at a loss of words, and Maximilian finally took that as a sign that the voices in his head were shutting up. "I can't take it anymore…! Melissa! I'm coming to join you!"

"She wouldn't want that," Starr suddenly said. Their subject teetered on one foot, his other dangling precariously over the pier as the rain beat down harder than before, "You know she wouldn't. She was your inspiration and you were hers. She couldn't have given herself up to the great unknown without telling you. You know that, Max. Don't you?"

Maximilian took a step back, away from the pier. "Why didn't she tell me? Melissa, why aren't you here? Who could ever love me the way you did…?"

"You bring meaning to my life…" Starr whispered into the air. She hoped her cheer, her song, would reach him as the voices of those he loved; of those who were still alive. "You're the Inspiration. I wanna have you near me…"

Foxx joined in as well, and Missy nodded, adding to the beat. "I wanna have you here beside me… No one needs you more than I… need… you…~"

Maximilian walked backwards, away from the water, "Mother… Father… what would they think…? I just… I don't know…"

"And I know,"

"And I know~"

"Yes I know that it's plain to see…" The divas clasped their hands together, their hearts beating in unison along with the beat. "We're so in love when we're together… Now I know that I need you here with me… from tonight until the end of time…"

"You should know (yes you need to know)… everywhere I go… You're always on my mind… You're in my heart… in my soul…"

Maximilian stood away from the water, and the divas held their breath as he stood three feet in front of them, his back to their faces. He stared into the dark sky as the rain began to clear. "Melissa. You aren't dead, are you?" he asked the sky, as if the voices he heard could answer that question truthfully, "I… I'm not done yet! There's still life in these bones! I won't give up until I find you, Melissa!" The divas smiled as the rain cleared up immediately. Maximilian smiled and turned around. There was no one there; he was all alone. He took a deep breath, taking in the humid, wet, salty air. Melissa was out there, and he was going to find her! He took a step, walked off the pier, and continued off towards his home to get dried off.

The divas hid behind a building a little ways away, breathing sighs of relief. Thank goodness they weren't caught! Suddenly, Starr laughed aloud. "And that's how you do it, Rookie."

"That was awesome, Starr!" Missy said, "We really did it! We saved that man!"

"Once a mission like that is complete, it really makes being a diva all worthwhile, don't you agree, Missy?" Foxx asked, "Although, now I'm all wet…" She removed her hat and shook her head out. "All we have to worry about now is the four of us catching colds." Missy looked at her questioningly, and BD-2 sighed lightly. "You know, because Max is wet too, you know."

"Oh! Right…!"

Starr placed her hands on her hips as Missy pulled out her glasses cloth, only to find that it was as wet as the rest of her clothes. "Well, I suppose that settles that!" the leader proclaimed as Missy sniffed and replaced her cloth, "I proclaim this mission…" The girls shouted in unison, "Complete!"

"Well, I'll go fill out what paperwork needs to be done. Anyone coming along with me?" Foxx asked. Missy and Starr nodded.

"Right, we'll all go together and get dressed into some spare uniforms before we catch cold," Starr said. The girls called for the helicopter to pick them up, and in the dead of night, the women were gone.

---

When the divas got together to work on paperwork, they found that the normally vibrant BD-3 was unusually quiet. When Foxx questioned her, she looked up. "Oh, it's nothing much, but there's one thing that bothers me, though…" she murmured as she chewed on her pencil, "You know, that Max guy… he said Melissa disappeared in the ocean…" She frowned. "But really, you think she's alive…? I wouldn't want to instill false hope in him. I mean, people usually don't just 'disappear into the ocean'…"

"I'm sure everything will turn out fine," Starr said, "I mean, I have a feeling that she's fine." BD-1 frowned lightly. "Although, the thought of people getting kidnapped from the bottom of the ocean frightens me a bit."

Foxx stopped typing, and the divas looked up at their colleague. "Foxx? Is something wrong?"

"Oh god…" she murmured, staring through the screen as she probed her mind, "It… it can't be…"

"Foxx?"

"S…Starr…" BD-2 looked up at her superior. "You… you may be on to something…" She tapped away at her laptop as she explained, "Here, here, look at this. This is the data I picked up from the meteorites before they landed on Earth."

"Data from meteorites?" Missy asked, smiling teasingly, "You've been all space rock-y ever since that huge meteor nearly destroyed Earth, huh?"

"Very funny. That meteor was incredibly huge, and to think we hadn't even noticed it until it was close enough to crash into Earth…" Foxx pursed her lips, "It's no coincidence that afterward, those aliens…"

"The Rhombulans?"

"Yes, the Rhombulans attacked Earth directly and tried to prevent us from singing anything." She swerved in her swivel chair to face her colleagues. "It was a stroke of luck that we were able to fight back and destroy the mother-ship. I just… I couldn't help but shake the feeling…"

"That it wasn't over…" Starr finished, suddenly taking the conversation seriously.

"Right. When the meteors appeared, when I heard that they were going to break Earth's atmosphere, I became suspicious. Something's been out to get us Earthlings for the past few years. They've tried indirectly destroying Earth, and then we had a full scale attack. What are other natural plans that can be used during wartime?"

The women stared at Foxx, and she sighed yet again. Sometimes she felt she was surrounded by people who couldn't think for themselves. "Assimilation, spies… wearing us down…" She placed her hands on her thighs in thought. "This isn't over. We're still under attack, and it's up to us to stop it, just like we have all the other times."

"Sounds like a plan. So, how are we going to tell the commander?" Missy asked. Foxx turned to Missy, and the two looked at Starr.

BD-1 groaned. "I'll see what I can do…" She muttered under her breath. The divas smiled brightly at her. Whatever was deciding to attack the planet, it was time to fight back against yet again.

---

DUNDUNDUNNN.

I really wasn't sure whether or not to actually have the annoying guy pestering Foxx but then I read a bunch of stories filled with stories of people who act JUST LIKE THAT so I kept it in.

Also the "Huge Meteor" that Missy mentions is a reference to another game that's very similar to this one. You guys probably have an inkling of it now.

Happy Thanksgiving all.


	5. Centants or Antaurs?

I'm really not entirely happy with this, but I'm not sure how I can improve it while still be exposition filled. OH WELLS I guess?

READ ON!

---

John Kahn stared out the window on the fair Saturday morning. His home wasn't very large, as he preferred to keep a low profile about just how much money he received for his governmental work. He sipped his tea as he turned news stories over in his mind. People were going missing, all sorts of people, young, old, black, white, were vanishing into thin air. The most that the police had was that the disappearances started from the ocean. However, they were already heading inland. Conspiracy theorists assumed that it was because of the meteorites. They claimed that they were probably pods that held goopy sludge that were devouring humans like in some horror movie. Most dismissed such allegations as silly nonsense (as of course, who in the world would believe anything a conspiracy theorist told them, especially things about Elite Beat Agents?), but no one could shake the feeling that something weird was going on… The Elite Beat Agents' commander sipped his tea and stared out the window.

"What do all of these disappearances have in common…?" he murmured to himself, hoping to crack the case, "Something just isn't…"

Suddenly, the phone rang. Naturally, John was surprised; usually he didn't get phone calls this early in the morning. He stood and moved to the phone on the wall. Call waiting claimed it was his son, or one of his grandchildren. Picking it up, he leaned against the wall and smiled brightly. "Good morning! How's my…"

"Father…!" John stopped when he heard his daughter-in-law, Whitney's, voice. She sounded so worried, and her voice was scratchy, like she had just been crying. "Father, have you heard from Kirsten?"

"Kirsten? What's the matter?" John asked, standing upright and hanging on to every word the woman said from then on.

"Kirsten was at friend's… you know, Hannah. She left Hannah's house to walk home last night… but she hasn't returned…!" Whitney hyperventilated loudly as she cried. John could hardly hear a word she was sobbing. "I was… I was so hoping you had heard from her…! She wasn't angry, was she? She couldn't have run away…!"

"W…Wh…Whitney, Whitney, calm down," John said. His daughter-in-law covered her mouth so she wouldn't be so loud when she cried. "You've sent a report in, haven't you? A missing person's report?"

"Of course… I called the station… they're so busy…" Whitney murmured, "They said that others are disappearing… just like on the news… I can't bear to think of what's happened to Kirsten…!"

"Whitney, listen to me, I… I can't talk to you when you're like this, Whitney…!"

"Just like that singer and dancer…! What's her name? Oh… like Amanda Straw? She's missing, and so is the CEO of that big company. Both she and her son have disappeared…!"

John blinked. Whitney just mentioned… "A singer…? And that boy… the boy who plays the piano…?"

"J…James Smith?" Whitney's voice seemed to settle down. She appeared to be thinking. "Yes, he was such a dear at the town's talent contest this year… Isn't he the son of your friend, Mister Geoffrey?"

"And tomorrow, Kirsten was scheduled to… to sing at the…" John fell silent, and his daughter-in-law whispered his name over the phone questioningly, to see if he was alright. "Whitney! Whitney, thank you so much."

"For what?"

"I'll see what I can do about Kirsten. If all goes well, she'll be back in time to go back to school next week."

"But…!" And John hung up.

---

An emergency call was sent out for all of the Elite Beat Agents and Elite Beat Divas. Jason had to abandon rehearsals and Philip apologized to Jessie about not being able to chauffer her around town. People from all over the town suddenly decided to drop everything they were doing (for no noticeable reason), and all of them converged to one location. Agent Chieftain apparently arrived first, because the moment Agent J arrived, BA-1 was already sitting at the briefing table, staring mutely at the table before him. BA-2 seriously wondered if he was sleeping, as he couldn't tell if his eyes were closed because of his shades. "Hey, Chief?"

Chieftain murmured in reply, not moving a muscle. J didn't think he had ever seen Chieftain so… whipped…? He had absolutely no energy at all, and BA-2 didn't want to admit it, but he was slightly scared about the sight.

"What's wrong with Chieftain?" BA-2 jumped in fright when Spin appeared next to him and whispered into his ear. J glared at him and said in a hushed shout:

"Jeez! Did you get teleporting lessons from Chieftain?"

"You don't think…" Spin gulped lightly as the two agents looked at BA-1, "That maybe…?"

"Chieftain, you have a family, right?" J asked. He continued to tread on the thin ice as Chieftain twitched lightly. "They… they haven't disappeared, have they…?"

Spin hid behind BA-2 and J held his ground when Chieftain stood up so suddenly from his chair that it fell backwards and landed on the floor. BA-1 glared at his second in command with such fierce anger that J actually felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" The three agents turned to see Morris and Derek. Morris appeared to be attempting to figure out what was going on. "What's going on? Chieftain…?"

BA-1 turned to BA-3 and BA-4, and turned to pick up the chair. "I… I apologize, J," he murmured quietly.

"Don't mention it. I'd be pretty on edge too." He turned around and placed his hands on his hips. "With everything going on so fast, I'm surprised one of us hasn't disappeared…"

"It should have been me…" Chieftain moaned, settling back in the chair and rubbing his eyes from under his sunglasses. The other agents looked sympathetic of his plight as he continued speaking to himself. "It should have been me…"

"Speaking of disappearing…" Spin said, turning around and looking a little worried, "Where do you think the divas are?"

"Right here!" BD-1 announced. Starr entered the room, followed by Foxx. "Hey, ho, the gang's all here!"

"We're missing Missy," Derek said. J and Spin smirked at the similar sounding words, but BA-4 paid them no heed. "Where's BD-3, Starr? She usually arrives right next to you."

"She does not," Starr said, blinking. Everyone nodded, agreeing with Derek. Starr thought about it, and blinked. "Huh, I suppose she does… well then, count me as stumped. Why isn't she here…?" There was silence for a moment, and she gasped in realization. "You don't think…?"

The briefing room became a lot brighter. Everyone turned to see the huge screen in the room suddenly turn on, and everyone stood at attention for Commander Kahn, wearing his sunglasses and looking gravely serious. "Good afternoon, Agents," he said.

"Commander!" Starr shouted as Foxx strode past the men and settled down near Chieftain. BD-1 continued speaking as BD-2 pulled out her laptop and began typing furiously. "It… it's Missy! She didn't arrive, she might have…!"

"This is bad, it's really bad…!" Spin groaned, placing his headphones around his neck so he could scratch his ear. "All these disappearances… why isn't anyone calling for help? I mean, they gotta be scared or in danger!"

"They have, BA-5," J said, stopping the commander from answering himself. Commander Kahn didn't need to if BA-2 already knew the answer. "I've heard them. Their screams for help have woken me up at night…"

"I tried to get to the scene as soon as I could," Morris murmured, "The first time I heard someone cry since these disappearances started. It was just that they…"

"…They stop, BA-5." Spin looked up at Kahn as he leaned on his hands, which propped his head up nicely. "Before I can pinpoint them or send anyone to assist them, the cries stop."

Derek's normally furrowed brow and frowning glare turned even worse, "The only possible explanation is…"

"…Unconsciousness," Morris interrupted, skirting dangerously around the word "Death", both for Missy and Chieftain's sake. "They could have been placed into unconsciousness." Everyone muttered in agreement, but Chieftain didn't seem to be listening. Foxx continued to type on her laptop, and suddenly she looked up, a deadly serious look on her face.

"Commander, I think we all need to see this," the diva said, "It's… all over the news… It's a video of an attack. I think we know just what is taking the people…"

The agents turned to blink at Foxx, and she looked up at the blown up face of Kahn on the screen. "Do you mind if I use the screen, Commander?"

Kahn looked at Foxx, rubbing his moustache. He nodded lightly, and Foxx adjusted her sunglasses and her fingers flew across the computer. In a moment (for whatever reason, as the laptop didn't seem to be connected to anything), Kahn's face disappeared, and everything on Foxx's laptop's screen was shown on the television. Everyone watched in morbid curiosity as she tapped lightly on her mouse pad and clicked on a small video. The video loaded, and everyone stared as an unprofessional tape appeared on screen.

Apparently someone was filming his or her friends' musical practice. The young teenagers were jamming on electrical guitar, as well as playing the keyboard and drums. It certainly made for a ruckus that was decent, but so unrefined that many of the agents winced in pain at how rough and unrefined it was.

Then, disaster struck. In a moment, the ground opened as if it were a sinkhole. From inside the small garage, a huge red creature erupted from the hole. It was hard to see what exactly the monster was, as the holder of the video camera was too busy screaming and fleeing. Everyone within the garage rushed to leave, and Spin shifted unnervingly. Everyone was screaming so loud, and all of the agents felt sick from empathy.

In the next moment, there was silence. The holder of the camera managed to escape the garage and ran as fast as she (it sounded feminine, so it was probably a young woman), could. There was still screaming, but silence soon followed, as if the danger had passed. The woman turned around and stared at the garage, still unable to comprehend that it was over. She fiddled with the video camera, and the next moment, it was flicked off.

News stories of all sorts had popped up thanks to the video. Some were blogs, and others were newspapers and anchors from various members of the media. Most of the people were doing what most people did during a crisis, talking about how the government wasn't doing enough to keep things in check. The agents glared angrily at the screen, thinking it almost unfair that everyone assumed that if something was wrong, it was instantly the fault of the government for not immediately fixing everything with a snap of a finger. It wasn't like cheering and dancing and singing for other peoples' sake was easy to do!

Foxx finally shut off the transmission, and Kahn's face appeared again. "Did you get all of that, Commander?" the diva asked. The commander didn't answer, but the others could tell he had. "As you can see, we're not dealing with anything human…"

"You can hardly call those things humanoid…" Morris murmured, "They were… insectoid?"

"They looked like ants," Spin said. Everyone turned to BA-5, who shrugged at their faces. "Well, they did…"

"Red ants… they utilized their front limbs as if they were tool users," Derek said quietly, "We can safely assume that they have the intelligence of a humanoid…"

"So they're Centants, huh?" J asked. Everyone groaned at his horrible naming of the alien pestilence. "Well then, how about Antaurs…?"

"Just… just… BA-2… just…" Chieftain didn't even finish his berating of BA-2. He simply curled up on the table and sighed. Nevertheless, Commander Kahn would not stop. He cleared his throat and everyone looked up to him, ready and awaiting his orders.

"I do believe that this is going to be one of our most dangerous battles, Agents," he said seriously, "with an optimistic viewpoint, I hope we all return safely."

"But we may not," J interrupted, catching glares from the other agents for interrupting the commander, "Are you sure you should go, Commander? BA-3… BA-5… they have families that need them. Are you sure you want to dispatch us all? If anything, one of us could become the next Agent Edgar."

There was a sudden hushed silence that came over the entire conference room. Everyone knew who J was talking about. Edgar Eallair was the original BA-3, back when the agents were small enough for one squad of three (Kahn, Chieftain, and he). A misstep on his part made one of their first targets mix two dangerous chemicals together in such a way that it caused a massive explosion within a laboratory. The new agents were able to save everyone but Edgar, who disappeared to save their target. They never found his body, and he had been MIA ever since. J didn't want anyone to meet Agent Edgar's fate, especially someone who had people relying on them to come back.

Kahn looked like he was in deep thought, and Spin saw him open his mouth as if he were going to say something to agree with J. BA-5 refused to let him speak. "No! J's just being all paranoid! You can't possibly tell us not to help when there are people who need it! Morris, are you with me?"

BA-3 looked at Spin, and turned to Kahn. "Commander, Spin is right. I'm sure my wife would be mad at me for abandoning you all in this time of need. The two of us will accompany you as well."

BA-2 shrugged lightly as Derek shook his head. "You sure? Thanks. We're going to need all the help we can get." He cast a glance at Chieftain, who seemed to be unable to assist them well, and he turned back to the screen. "F…for now, Commander, I request permission to run a check over the town. We can't very well catch these guys (things?) if they keep covering their tracks, you know."

"You'd think that people would notice the huge mounds of dirt they cover back up," Starr muttered lightly.

Kahn murmured something under his breath, and nodded. "Permission granted. Agents, I wish you luck at your intelligence gathering. Rest assured, you will not be alone. You will be…"

"Excuse me, Commander, but I think J's already out the door," Spin said, pointing away so the commander could see that BA-2 was already rushing to find and defeat the ant aliens. Kahn sighed lightly.

"Indeed, before I take too much of your time…" Kahn withdrew his arm. "Agents… are…"

The briefing room was almost empty by the time he pointed dramatically into the air. "Go!!"

---

Kinda short, but you can't have an Agents are Go! thing and keep going, I mean, it's like the crowning moment of awesome, miniaturized. Anyway, I forgot to introduce some peoples so I'll do like all of the Divas now I guess.

The Elite Beat Divas were instituted after BD-1, AKA Agent Starr, AKA Jenna Wane, was discovered and recruited. There was absolutely no way they were going to get her to dress in something as drab as a black suit, so she picked out her own outfit from her modeling wardrobe. No one really could tell why she chose cowboy chaps to go with Men in Black outfits, but there was really no way to disagree with her, save allowing her to leave, and they needed her skill (not to mention the Commander was getting plenty of flak from the Government, wondering why he was only hiring men). So Jenna, the young model, became the first Diva, the one to create the extensive tradition that all Divas share.

BD-2, AKA Agent Foxx, AKA Crystal Caruso, joined a few months after, when it became apparent that it was just too hard for one Diva to get the job done, and there was no way in hell any of the agents were going to follow her dance steps. They may like dancing and singing but they weren't stupid. Crystal, while not being the greatest and most powerful Cheerer around, was able to get the job done, despite her lack of drive in training. She seems to much prefer the sound of a computer to the buzzing of human speech. While this does kind of get annoying when people are being briefed and she ignores it, she soon became an indispensable member of the agents, as no one else really understood computers as well as she does. If she doesn't keep practicing though, she may be overshadowed in talent by the ever bubbly Missy.

BD-3, AKA Agent Missy, AKA Katie Santos, joined up recently, even more recent than Spin. Because of this, she is really not able to perform as well as the other Divas, who kind of treat her like a little sister who needs to be taken care of. While it tends to bug her a little, she decided early on that instead of whining, she would just get better so that they couldn't treat her like that. This idea probably came from Derek. Missy actually has a family across the country that she left when she took her internship; they still have no idea what she's doing after her work, but only know that she's constantly complaining about her work load. Katie's best friend in the entire world is her little sister, Hannah, but she's begun to get quite attached to her coworkers, especially Spin, who's about her age, and her boss, Jenna Wane.

All first names of the Divas are from old friends of mine who moved away and I lost touch with. I dunno, I just think that it would be cool to think that somehow... yeah... *laugh* The last names, however, were randomly picked for no reason, except for one, which is the last name of yet another friend of mine. But I'm not telling you which one that is. Hohoho.

ANYWAY if anyone cares or doesn't remember, Amanda Straw is the singer and dancer from the first bonus episode "Aspire! Dance to the Limelight!" or whatever it was called. So yes, I am finally referencing people aside from OCs. Hurray?


End file.
